


Fall

by IdleLeaves



Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2016-07-02
Packaged: 2018-07-19 15:47:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7367767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IdleLeaves/pseuds/IdleLeaves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emil suffers the consequences of not listening to Lalli.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fall

The house is small, even by their current town's standards. It's only dimly lit by daylight filtering through smudged windows, and everything creaks – the doors, the floor, the table in the entryway. It's all coated in a thick layer of dust, and that, at least, is a good sign. Dust means 'undisturbed', and 'undisturbed' means 'likely troll-free'. It's been some days since their last encounter, and Emil would prefer it be some days more – or weeks, or months even – until the next.

Sigrun charges upstairs with Mikkel behind her, leaving Emil and Lalli to explore the ground floor on their own. Emil takes a moment to let his eyes adjust to the lack of light – why would anyone choose such dark panelling for small rooms – and watches Lalli look left and then right down the hall that splits in front of them.

The left branch is, when Emil investigates, short enough that he can see through to the room at its end. There is a desk, cluttered with paper and academic detritus, and tall shelves lined with books. A lot of books.

Lalli points down the other branch of the hall – the one that ends in several closed doors, and darkness.

Emil shakes his head. "Books," he says, waving his hand in the other direction. It's a word that Lalli understands, and yet he does not budge, saying something unintelligible and pointing again. His face is neutral, however, neither worried nor distressed, so Emil choose to follow his own lead.

"Let's just check this way first, all right?" he says, expecting Lalli to follow in his own time, "and then--"

His voice cuts off abruptly at the splintering of rotten wood. Emil plunges through the floor into darkness.

Technically, he does land on his feet, though not well enough to remain standing. His legs twist as he falls, and his hip hits the stone floor hard. He can't muffle a short, sharp gasp.

It takes him a moment to get his bearings. The basement he's fallen into is even darker than the halls above, and seems to be nothing more than storage space. There doesn't seem to be a stairwell that he can see, though he can see a collapsed tangle of wood that may have been one, once upon a time. Wall-mounted shelving is mostly empty, and there is a table in the corner.

Emil stretches his limbs experimentally. Nothing seems broken, at least – bruised, to be certain, and he suspects his right ankle may not hold his weight when he stands.

When he looks up there is a small, dark shape at the edges of the hole he's made in the floor – or the ceiling. Emil instinctively grabs a flare from his belt, but stops short of lighting the fuse when the shape immediately retreats. Belatedly, Emil recognises it as a hood – not a troll.

"Lalli?" he ventures, and, after a silent moment, Lalli's face appears again. Emil doesn't understand the words that follow, but they sound like a question.

When Emil gets to his feet, he grits his teeth at the pain in his ankle and makes his way toward the table in the corner. "It's okay," he says, when Lalli's voice rises in pitch.

Before he even moves the table he knows it will not be tall enough to be his way out, even with Lalli's help, yet he manoeuvres it – slowly – into place anyhow. It's a start, at least. He climbs onto it and stands, awkwardly; when he reaches up, he can almost touch the splintered floor with his hand. Almost.

"I need a chair," he says, as much to himself as to Lalli. "Chair?" he asks, when Lalli tilts his head, not expecting him to understand. Emil's attempt at miming what he means is entirely useless, and Lalli's neutral expression morphs into one of confusion. 

"Get Sigrun, Lalli," he says with a sigh. "Sigrun," he repeats, more clearly.

Lalli abruptly disappears into the hall. In the quiet of the basement, Emil can hear his footsteps, soft to begin with, fading away. He sits right where he is, on a table in the middle of a basement in a house in a city he can't even remember the name of, and waits. There is no clock that he can see, but he imagines he can hear the seconds, then minutes, tick away.

This time he does not startle when a face appears in the gap above him. "Seriously?" says Sigrun.

It takes Sigrun, Mikkel, and more than one item of furniture – collected from around the house, and lowered carefully down – to help Emil up. Lalli stands close by, watching, but when Emil stumbles, putting too much weight on his bad leg, it is Lalli's hand at his elbow that steadies him.

"Thanks, Lalli," Emil says. It counts for a number of things. " _Kiitos_ ," he tries, "and – sorry." He's not sure which of the two words is less familiar.

Lalli's smile is fleeting, and barely more than a slight curve of his mouth. He reaches out and pats Emil twice, lightly, on the shoulder, then trots off down the hall toward the entryway.

Emil follows.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Ana Nymus for a multimedia fanworks exchange at the SSSS forum.


End file.
